Flying Fire
by imgayerthanyou
Summary: -HIATUS- After Finn outs Santana, Brittany gets justice for her girlfriend, and rids Finn from both their lives.
1. Chapter 1

She finds her hunched over on the toilet in the last stall of the bathroom, eyes puffy and red from crying.

"Santana, baby, what happened?" Brittany kneels down as she asks soothingly, stroking a hand over Santana's hair.

Her girlfriend's a mess, her body shaking with silent sobs, and Brittany's never seen her this way before and it's terrifying. She's seen Santana cry before, but this is different. Brittany can already feel the anger for whoever did this welling up in her chest.

She presses a kiss to the top of Santana's head and starts rubbing her back. She places small kisses on Santana's shoulder, temple, and anywhere else there's a bit of exposed skin.

"He – he just...in the middle of the hallway. In front of everyone!" Santana manages to look up as she wipes her eyes and nose. Brittany doesn't understand, but she's thankful Santana's speaking.

"Who, San? What did he do?"

Brittany knows she shouldn't bristle at "he", but she also knows that queer women typically have more to fear in men than in women, especially in this cow town.

Santana takes a few slow, deep breaths. "Finn. I was just teasing him like always, and as I started walking away, he just..." Fresh tears well up in Santana's eyes and Brittany swallows thickly, fighting tears of her own at seeing Santana like this. Her stomach churns.

"He asked me why I don't come out of the closet," Santana chokes out, and Brittany feels her eyes widen. "In the middle...of the the freaking...hallway," Santana leans forward into Brittany, who can't feel her knees from being on the tile floor. Brittany wraps her arms around Santana, absorbing every shake from her body.

"And he said all this stuff about you and how you might not love me back and, and...and I've never felt so small in my entire life," Her words are muffled against Brittany's shoulder, but Brittany hears them loud and clear. She's never felt the sort of anger she feels now. Like her blood is literally boiling through her veins, burning under her skin.

"He called me a coward," Santana mumbles, and Brittany hears the emptiness in her voice.

"He's the coward, Santana," Brittany says quietly but firmly. "He's the coward, and you're bigger and better than he is in every way," she kisses Santana's forehead and leans back slightly. Santana sits back and wipes her eyes again. Brittany strokes her fingers over Santana's cheek and meets watery brown eyes.

"And I love you, more than I love anyone or anything in this world." She quickly leans forward and pecks Santana on the lips. "I love you, okay? You know I love you, and will love you, forever and ever and ever," she smiles at the way Santana's eyes soften.

Santana nods and Brittany's relieved to see her look a little less sad. "I know...he was just so...malicious," Santana shudders. "I love you too, you know. And I _do _want to come out, I just, can't yet."

Brittany already knows Santana's thinking of her grandmother. "I know, babe, I know. It's okay, I don't want you to rush anything."

* * *

It's a few days later when Santana comes barreling down the hall, crying again. Brittany's there to catch her up in her arms, to soothe her and pepper her face with gentle kisses.

Brittany had spent the past days making sure Santana knew how much she loved her.

She had also been thinking up ways to kill Finn Hudson.

Santana manages to explain about the the tape Sue had shown her, and how Mr. Schue and Kurt's dad had been there. Brittany feels her anger rise up again, like bile in her throat. She's never felt so helpless before – telling Santana to ignore Finn is one thing; telling her to ignore a commercial outing her on TV is another.

Later that night, they're in Brittany's bed, and Brittany has her chest pressed against Santana's back, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend as protectively as she can. Santana's asleep already, exhausted from the past few days. Brittany's wide awake though, her mind whirring as she watches the way Santana's eyes twitch slightly behind their lids.

The commercial had played on TV that night. Luckily, Santana had been in the bathroom while it ran, and Brittany watched with disgust, shutting off the TV once it was done.

She kisses the nape of Santana's neck, the short hairs there soft and her skin warm. Brittany's mind returns to the thought that's grown more serious with the events of the day.

She hadn't been truly planning on killing Finn Hudson. Sure, she'd thought up a handful of different ways to do it, and actually felt a little sick at the twist of pleasure in her stomach the images brought, but they were just daydreams. Finn had hurt her girlfriend in a major way, and Brittany had taken to fantasizing about getting him back.

Now Brittany pictures Finn getting in trouble. That's what happens when you hurt someone, especially a member of glee club...right?

Brittany thinks of all the times people have been mean to each other, in the glee club and school in general. Her stomach drops. McKinley doesn't have the best track record of following up with consequences, or even disciplining the right people. As her eyes skate over Santana's sleeping form, she starts to consider her daydreams possibly becoming a reality.

* * *

She loses it when he sings to her.

She impresses herself with not doing it right there, in the middle of the choir room, as she watches Finn Hudson sing the dumbest song on the planet to _her_ _girlfriend. _Santana gets emotional, but it's only when she looks over her shoulder towards Brittany, and Brittany remembers through her rage to smile, and even manages to mouth the words "I love you" to her.

When Santana turns around towards Finn again, Brittany's thoughts return to the gun sitting in her locker. The weapon's been there for a couple of days, and honestly, Brittany's not sure how she hasn't thrown up yet.

She'd steeled herself when she met the guy selling the gun on Craigslist. She'd even withdrawn the extra money to get the silencer he was selling at an extra cost. Silencers are illegal, and she doesn't have a gun permit, but the beauty of Craigslist is that not everything about its transactions have to be legal. The man had looked her over curiously, but he'd counted his money to make sure it was all there and left without a problem.

She knows she has to do it today, before this idiot can interfere with her life anymore. She realizes killing him might make him a much bigger part of her life, but then the vengeful monster that's built itself a home in her chest roars, and she knows it'll be worth it. He's hurt Santana, and even herself, and gone unpunished for it, too many times.

The end of the day rolls around, and Brittany and Santana are two of the few still left in the halls. Brittany notices Rachel and Finn by his locker as well, but she turns to focus on Santana, who's leaning against her locker.

"You love me, no matter what, right?" Brittany asks, and Santana's brow furrows as she places a hand on Brittany's chest.

"Of course," Santana smiles, still a little confused at where it's coming from. Brittany smiles and puts a hand over Santana's on her chest. She rubs her thumb over smooth skin.

"And you know that everything I do is for you, because I love you, so _fucking_ much,"

"Yeah..." Santana says a little more hesitantly now. "Brittany, what's going on?"

Brittany swallows hard, struggling over the sudden lump in her throat. "Nothing, nothing...I just want you to know that I love you. A lot."

Santana smiles, and Brittany bumps their noses gently together before tilting her head in for a kiss. It's one of the first public kisses they've shared in school, and Santana doesn't pull away. Instead, she wraps her arms around Brittany's neck and pulls her closer. Brittany can tell her kisses feel urgent; desperate with the need to make Santana feel the love in them.

She jerks back when she hears a locker door down the hall slam closed. She doesn't dare look down the hall, but she's pretty sure it's him. Santana's speaking to her so Brittany brings her focus back.

"...go back to my place?"

Brittany kisses Santana's nose. "I can't right now, I'll be over later though, 'kay?" Santana cocks her head with a questioning look. "Newspaper stuff," Brittany explains.

She hates how the lie slips off her tongue, but it placates Santana who then packs up her stuff, and with one last kiss, heads down the hall towards the front doors.

Brittany waits a second to make sure she's gone before she yanks open her locker. She looks down the hall, and Finn is gone, but she hadn't noticed him heading towards the main doors that lead to the parking lot, so she hopes he's still in the building. Just picturing his stupidly smug face gives Brittany the will power to slip the gun from the plastic bag she had buried underneath all her stuff. She tucks the weapon into her binder and closes it, but leaves it unzipped. With that, she turns up the hall and heads towards the locker room.

He's there, standing in front of the mirrored wall lifting free weights. He sees her in the reflection as she walks over, and he drops the weights and spins around.

"Brittany, what are you doing in here?" He looks constipated, like he always does when he's trying to think. Brittany doesn't answer him. She'd told herself not to talk to him, because talking might weaken her resolve. Instead, she reaches into her binder, pulls out the gun, the silencer already attached and making it heavier, and lets her binder fall.

"Fuck! Brittany, what the fuck!" Finn shouts, backing up towards the mirrored wall. Brittany's terrified by the delight she feels at the pure fear in his eyes. _Maybe now he knows how Santana felt, _she thinks.

When she'd bought it, she'd practiced pointing it around her room, but as she holds it now, her hands shake and the weapon feels like it's a thousand pounds.

"Britt put that fucking thing down what are you doing?" He's hysterical now, his hands out as if that'll stop a bullet.

In her head, she'd planned out all the things she could say before she pulled the trigger, all the lines that people say in movies, about revenge or justice or whatever else people shoot people for. But her mind is blank save for two thoughts, one which is "pull the trigger", two which is "don't throw up".

She also pictures Santana's face, red and swollen, eyes scared and sad and tired from all the work she's put into her life to grow stronger, for herself and for Brittany. She pictures all those things, and through shaking hands, Brittany pulls the trigger.

There's a muted but still loud pop, and Finn's thrown back into the glass as the bullet tears into his right shoulder. _Shit_, Brittany curses to herself, the force of the shot causing her to take a step back. She'd been aiming for the left side of his chest. Finn screams, his hand flying to his shoulder.

Brittany realizes she'd bought a silencer to help temper the sound, but now it's Finn making all the noise.

"Brittany, please! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean -"

Fresh rage crashes over her. He's trying to apologize, like that'll make it better. Like that'll give Santana control over her life back when she needed it most.

Brittany raises the gun again, and Finn cries, literally cries, and she's never seen something so pathetic. She aims the gun at the center of his chest, and this time pulls the trigger once, twice, three times, before Finn crashes to the ground with a sickening thud, the mirror behind him covered with blood.

Brittany looks at herself in the mirror through the splashes of red. She takes a mental snapshot of herself, pale as a ghost but alive, blood pounding in her ears as she looks at the gun in the reflection then back to her face. She doesn't give the body on the floor a second look as she picks up her binder, tucks the gun back inside, and leaves the locker room.

She smiles politely at the janitor she passes. When he turns the corner past her, she breaks out into a run. She rips her locker open, grabs her backpack, and heads for the front doors to the parking lot where her car waits for her.

Once in the car, she tosses her binder and backpack into the backseat and starts the drive over to Santana's house.


	2. Chapter 2

Brittany parks her car on a quiet dead end street around the corner from Santana's. It's just starting to get dark out, and she figures it'll give her some time if her car isn't in plain sight at her house or even Santana's. She figures she has a few hours before they realize it was her.

She's surprisingly calm as she walks up Santana's front lawn. Her only concern is how Santana's going to react, and what's going to happen between them. Santana's mother opens the door.

"Oh hi Brittany, come on in. Hon, you look like you've seen a ghost, are you okay?" Maribel asks as she lets Brittany inside.

Brittany nods. "I'm okay, Mrs. Lopez, really. Santana upstairs?"

"Of course, go on up."

She takes the stairs two at a time and knocks lightly before pushing open Santana's door. Santana's on her back lying on her bed with a book, and she smiles as Brittany closes the door behind her.

"Hey you," Santana almost purrs, and Brittany's smile is weak in return. She can't stop thinking about everything. Santana picks up on Brittany's lackluster greeting and puts down her book. "You okay?"

Brittany sits on the edge of the bed and can't fight the way she trembles, upset with herself for getting like this in front of Santana. She takes a few deep breathes and closes her eyes when she feels Santana sit up and place a hand on her back.

"Britt, what's wrong? You're shaking,"

Brittany doesn't speak and only opens her eyes, turning to look at Santana. There's worry written all over her face, and that's not what Brittany wanted, so she leans forward and kisses Santana. Santana cups her cheeks and kisses back, but is hesitant when Brittany's tongue darts out.

"Babe...you're shaking like a leaf, what happened?"

"You'd hate me," Brittany breathes, and her answer startles Santana.

"I could never. Not in a million years," Santana insists, her features soft and worried at the same time.

Brittany shakes her head. "I just want to kiss you...make love to you. Can we make love?"

Santana sucks in a sharp breath and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth before finally moving to kiss Brittany again. Her kiss is the only answer Brittany needs, and she guides them back so that Santana's head rests on her pillow.

They spend the next few hours in bed, wrapping themselves in soft moans and nails digging into skin and tongues working expertly over each other. They're the most..._intense_ they've ever been, Brittany thinks to herself as she trails kisses up from between Santana's legs, over her stomach and chest and to her lips. She's worn herself out, and she falls easily next to Santana in bed, draping an arm and a leg over tan, sticky skin. Brittany drops soft kisses on Santana's cheek, and Santana smiles sleepily, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on Brittany's arm.

Brittany closes her eyes. She wishes she had planned this better. She wishes she had planned a better way to do it, or an actual escape plan.

But escape would involve leaving Santana. Or getting Santana to come with, essentially pulling her away from any chance of graduating and success and happiness, and Brittany couldn't be responsible for that.

"Are you gonna tell me what's going on now?" Santana whispers.

Brittany takes her time, thinking of what to say. Before she can speak, there's a knock at the door.

Santana's father's voice comes muffled through it. "Santana, ah, you better come downstairs baby," Her father's voice is unsure, and Brittany's stomach drops. Santana frowns, wondering what her dad wants. She rolls out of bed, and Brittany wants to come with, but she only sits up and watches Santana pull on a baggy shirt and pair of shorts.

"I'll be right back," Santana smiles and leans over to give Brittany a quick kiss, and then she's out of the room and heading downstairs. Brittany quickly pulls on the tank top and shorts she keeps in Santana's pajama drawer. She stalks quietly over to the top of the stairs to listen to what's going on.

She hears an unfamiliar, deep voice. "Mr. Lopez, I understand your concern, but until we get all the facts, this is something that needs to happen."

"My daughter did not kill anyone!" Mr. Lopez spits back, and Brittany's stomach twists. _Fuck_.

She hurries down the stairs and into the living room, where they're all standing. Two police officers, Santana, and her parents.

One of the cops looks at her and narrows his eyes. "Hey, John, isn't she on that list too? She looks like one of the kids in that glee club."

The other officer flips through his notes. "Oh yep, there she is. Brittany Pierce?" He looks at her.

She nods, wondering if they can hear her heart hammering against her chest. Santana throws her a look, scared and confused. Brittany moves towards her until they're standing next to each other, and takes Santana's hand in hers.

"Well, Santana, if you could come with us into the other room, we just have a few questions, and then Brittany, we'd like to speak with you as well, since you're here already." The officer's eyes fall on their hands.

"What are we being questioned about, officer?" Brittany asks as sweetly and politely as possible.

"The murder of one of your classmates, Finn Hudson."

It sounds weird, being said by another person. It had been her own knowledge for a few short hours, maybe even less, depending on when the janitor cleaned the locker room. It didn't make it any more real – the image of Finn's bloody body falling to the ground kept it real enough in Brittany's mind – but hearing someone else say it, hearing a police officer say it, it added a sense of finality to it.

The cops motion for Santana to come with them, and Santana tenses beside her, and her parents start to object, and Brittany knows she's about to do it, but her breath still comes in shallow bursts, her heart beating an uneven beat as she opens her mouth.

"I did it."

The officer who had started to move towards them to guide Santana into the other room does a double take. Everyone in the room looks at her.

Santana's the first to speak, and gives Brittany's hand a gentle squeeze. "Britt, what are you saying?"

She can't look at Santana, because she doesn't want to see how Santana's looking at her. She doesn't want to see how Santana _will _look at her. So she looks at the officers.

"I killed him," she says, as seriously as she can. Her voice wavers.

"Brittany, you know lying to the police to protect a friend," the officer's eyes skirt over to Santana, "can get you in a lot of trouble, right?" _So they think she did it._

"I'm not lying. And she's my _girlfriend_," Brittany dares a look over at Santana and finds her smiling at the title, making it worth the correction.

"Alright then," the officer's still skeptical, and it actually kind of annoys Brittany, like he doesn't think she's capable of murder. "Let's just step into the other room and we can talk about it, okay?"

"I don't want to talk about it here," Brittany says through tight lips, feeling Santana's parents looking at her in shock. She doesn't want to know if they think she's telling the truth or crazy, or both.

"Brittany, what are you doing, you didn't..." Santana trails off, and Brittany only bites her lip, staring at the floor.

The police officer sighs, and motions for his partner, who steps forward and pulls out a pair of handcuffs. "Brittany Pierce, you are under arrest for the murder of Finn Hudson." As he handcuffs her, he reads her her rights, and she agrees that yes, she understands them. Santana shouts at the officers, beating her fists against the other one's chest as he blocks her from running to Brittany. Mr. Lopez tries to reason with them, asking if they can't let her stay here, she's always been a little odd, she doesn't know what she's saying.

Brittany wants to think he's just saying that, but she knows he probably believes it. Santana's mother has disappeared, and Brittany assumes she's gone into the kitchen to call over her parents and let them know what's going on.

The officer walks her out to the car, dipping her head gently and putting her into the backseat before closing the door and heading back into the house. She watches him go until the door closes behind him, and then she looks around the car. There are no handles on the insides of the doors in the back, and the front seats have a cage covering the back of them, so she can't even slip out the front.

After a few minutes, the two officers come back out of the house, and Brittany's eyes widen as one of them walks behind Santana, who appears to have her hands cuffed behind her back. Her parents follow them out onto the lawn, but Brittany can't hear what they're saying. She watches in stunned silence as the cop walks Santana around to the other side of the car before guiding her into the backseat next to Brittany. The cop closes the door and goes over to join his partner, who is still talking to Santana's parents.

"Santana, what the hell are you doing?" Brittany asks, incredulous but also amused.

"I bit him," Santana shrugs, looking out Brittany's window to see the cops.

"You...what?" Brittany laughs.

"I was trying to get outside to see you and he was manhandling me so I bit his hand. Hard, too."

Brittany follows Santana's line of vision and notices one officer holding his hand.

"Why'd you do that?" Brittany shakes her head, already knowing the answer.

"You think I'm going to let them drive off with my girlfriend to do who knows what?" She smiles, knowing they're both a little crazy.

"Santana...you know I did it...I'm telling the truth," Brittany says quietly. She doesn't want Santana chasing her because she thinks she's innocent.

Santana's smile fades a little, and Brittany can't quite read her expression, for the first time in maybe ever. Santana nods her head but doesn't say anything.

"I love you," Brittany tries. She leans across the middle seat, and after a beat Santana follows suit. They kiss, and Brittany puts this one on the top of the list of weirdest places (and situations) she's ever kissed someone in. She wishes she could use her hands as Santana opens her mouth against her lips, inviting her tongue.

They startle apart when both front doors of the car open, and the officers fall into their seats. The one holding his hand is in the passenger's seat and he throws a glare back at them. They ignore him, and Santana scoots over into the middle seat so she can lean against Brittany. The cop in the driver's seat starts the car, and Brittany and Santana watch Santana's house drop away as they head down the street towards the police station.

Santana tucks her chin into Brittany's shoulder and kisses her ear, making a smile curl across Brittany's lips. She dips her head a little, so that they're kind of nuzzling each others faces in the backseat of a cop car, and finally Brittany turns more so that she can whisper in Santana's ear.

Her voice, even at a whisper, is cracked and weak and desperate for Santana to understand. "I did it for you," Brittany finishes with a chaste kiss on the shell of Santana's ear. She keeps her lips there, too scared to pull back and see Santana's face.

Santana leans into her a little, and Brittany rests her forehead on her temple.

"If I could move my hands right now, I'd hold yours."

Brittany smiles and kisses Santana's ear again.


	3. Chapter 3

_(Please excuse any inaccuracies regarding the American legal/judicial system - I'm doing my best to be as accurate as possible)_

* * *

They're pulled a little roughly from the backseat of the cop car, and Santana snaps that she doesn't like the way they're being treated. The cops ignore her, and Brittany wrinkles her nose but doesn't say anything.

She realizes she's still terrified Santana's mad at her, or thinks she's crazy. With all that's happening, Brittany's starting to believe she could be a little crazy herself. _You killed someone mere hours ago_, a voice reminds her. She swallows thickly and does her best not to think, concentrating solely on the flex of tan legs as she's marched into the station behind Santana.

The cop walking with Santana sits her down on a bench near the front desk in the station, while the officer walking with Brittany starts guiding her down the hall.

"No, wait," Brittany twists, but the cop has a good grip on her arm, and she can't use her hands that are still cuffed behind her back. "Where are you taking me? I want to sit with her," Brittany insists, looking over her shoulder to where Santana watches her, fear etched into her features.

"We've got a lot of questions for you," the officer replies, attempting to get Brittany walking again.

"I'm not saying anything without my parents here, so can I sit with her until they come? They'll probably be here soon. Please?" She pouts like she hasn't just confessed to murder, and it's either out of pity or annoyance that the cop sighs.

"Fine." He still must think she didn't do it, because Brittany can't imagine the tough-looking guys they book get to sit in the main entryway. But she's not about to complain, and smiles with relief as he walks her back towards Santana.

Santana smiles when Brittany sits down next to her, and Brittany's thankful. She's still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Santana to disown her and call her a lunatic, but for now all she does is rest her head on Brittany's shoulder.

Brittany feels brave enough to press a kiss into Santana's hair, and watches the police officers who brought them in start to fill out paperwork nearby.

It's about 15 minutes later when both their parents burst into the station, lawyers in tow. Brittany's parents rush to her, and she stands up, hands instinctively moving for a hug, but they're still caught behind her back in handcuffs. Her father notices immediately and turns to the nearest officer, demanding his daughter be let out of handcuffs, while her mother wraps her up in a fierce hug.

"It's okay baby, we'll get you home soon," she promises, and Brittany smiles sadly as she watches Santana embracing her own parents over her mom's shoulder. Santana will probably go home tonight, but Brittany doubts she will.

Before she knows it, she's out of handcuffs and in a brightly lit room with a police officer dressed in street clothes, her parents, and who she guesses is now _her _lawyer. There's a window on the wall with the door, and Brittany imagines there are people on the other side watching and listening.

"Brittany, you confessed to the murder of Finn Hudson, is that correct?"

Out of the corner of her eyes, she can practically see her parents holding their breath. She knows they want to speak, but they don't.

"Don't answer that," her lawyer says. She realizes she doesn't even know his name.

"What's your name?" She asks him quietly. He's a little surprised, but smiles warily.

"You can call me Mr. Jacobs," he nods.

The police officer cuts in. "Well, now that we're all acquainted – Mr. Jacobs, your client has already confessed to the crime, I'd just like her to confirm."

"My client was in a state of shock at finding two uniformed officers in her girlfriend's living room late at night, and said what she thought best to defer the attention of the officers away from said Ms. Lopez," Mr. Jacobs says sternly.

Brittany smiles at his use of the word "girlfriend", but wipes the smile from her face quickly when the police officer scowls at her.

"That's very nice and all, but I have a witness and a crime scene covered in fingerprints that proves Ms. Pierce is telling the truth when she confessed earlier this evening!"

"You have a witness to the murder?"

"Well, not to the murder, but the janitor can place Brittany in the school around the time of the murder," the detective corrects himself.

Mr. Jacobs smiles. "There are plenty of activities that take place after school, and I'd bet Brittany wasn't the only student the janitor saw. Do you even have the weapon?"

"Not yet," the officer huffs.

Brittany worries her bottom lip between her teeth. She hadn't thought about the fingerprints. And the gun is still in her car, which they'll probably find soon enough.

"I did it," she says in a calm voice.

"Brittany! Honey, what are you saying?" Her mother nearly cries, holding her dad's hands.

The cop shakes his head, and Mr. Jacobs turns to Brittany, and starts to speak, but she speaks over him, looking at the officer.

"I did it. I went into the locker room after school today, with a gun I bought, and shot him. Four times."

Mr. Jacobs tries to cut over her multiple times as she derails any hopes he had of getting her out of the station, out of this mess in general, but Brittany keeps her voice steady, eyes locked on the officer.

"Where's the gun?" The detective leans forward like he knows he has this. He does.

"In my car which is parked on the dead end street next to Santana's." Brittany finally looks away, down at the table as she feels the three people on her side of the table grow more and more frustrated. Her parents probably think she's ill, like she doesn't know what she's saying anymore. She thinks Mr. Jacobs thinks she's telling the truth.

The officer nods. "Well then Brittany, we have no choice but to keep you overnight here until you can be brought to arraignment tomorrow and the judge can weigh in."

"Sir, you can't believe her, she doesn't know what she's saying - she's scared!" Brittany's mother insists, and Brittany bristles at the plea. It's kind of funny how bothered she's getting, but she's kind of pissed no one thinks she could do it.

"Brittany, tell them you're making it up," her mother's eyes are wide as the detective comes around the table towards Brittany.

She can't look her mother in the eye. The cop takes hold of her arm and starts to guide her towards the door, and Brittany manages to look towards her parents for the first real time this evening. She sees the first possibility of belief on her parents faces, but then she's out the door and being led down a different hallway.

The police station in Lima isn't meant to hold people for a long time, and its cells are few and small. She's the only person in here as far as she can tell, and she sits on the narrow bed as the officer locks the barred door.

_Just your average weeknight, _Brittany muses. She hears the hurried squeak of flip-flops on linoleum and the curses of a police officer, which cause her to jump from the bed and move to the bars. Santana skids to a stop in front of her, cheeks reddened and hair tousled from her sprint down the hall. She wraps her hand around two bars like she expects someone to try and pry her off them, which they just might.

Brittany covers Santana's hands with her own and presses her face forward. She can't get very far, but just enough for Santana to peck her on the lips through the bars. Santana pulls back shaking her head.

"You're in jail, Brittany." She sounds half torn between laughing and crying.

Brittany smiles kind of sadly. "Yeah, I am." A police officer comes into view behind Santana. "You're not supposed to be here, are you?" Brittany asks.

"Nope. Then again, neither are you," Santana jokes back, but Brittany winces, because, well she is kinda supposed to be here.

She changes the subject though, ignoring the officer telling Santana she needs to leave. Santana only tightens her grip on the bars. "What happened with you and the biting?"

"They're letting me off with just the fine. Granted, the fine is two thousand dollars, but yeah. Just the fine."

"I'm sure your dad's thrilled."

"No more than your parents. How are they, by the way?"

Brittany frowned and her voice was low when she spoke. "I think they think I've gone insane." She looks down at the floor, noting it's worn and scuffed.

"Hey," Santana takes one hand off the bar just to cover Brittany's with it. "Hey, Britt, look at me," she pleads gently. "I'm still here, okay?"

Brittany swallows over the lump in her throat and holds Santana's gaze. She nods.

"I love you," Santana takes Brittany's hand through the space in the bars and kisses it.

Brittany can't fight the tears that well in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispers, her throat suddenly dry.

"Why baby, don't be," Santana soothes, kissing Brittany's palm before moving closer. She reaches her hand through the bars and manages to stroke Brittany's cheek.

"Santana!" Her father's voice booms down the hall, and the officer that had been standing behind her and off to the side uses the momentum of the girl's parent to move towards her.

"C'mon, we're going home," Mr. Lopez throws Brittany a look of disgust so vicious she starts to step back, but Santana takes her hand one last time and kisses it again.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," she assures Brittany as her father drags her down the hall and out of sight. Brittany has nothing left to do but sit down on the bed and wonder where her parents are.

She hears footsteps, and she perks up, expecting them to appear in front of her. She can't help but feel crestfallen when it's her lawyer outside the barred door. He looks tired.

"Where are my parents?"

He hesitates. "They went home. I wanted to stop by before I did the same."

She watches him carefully, doing her best not to let the hurt show through on her face. Her parents left her.

"Brittany, I need you to tell me what happened."

Brittany sighs. She runs a hand through her hair and pulls a hairband off her wrist to tie it into a ponytail.

"He outed Santana. He literally called her out in a crowded hallway at school, and then someone overheard, and it ended up in a fucking commercial that played all across the county," she feels her temper rising.

"And she was terrified, and he didn't get in trouble, and two years ago he called his step-brother 'faggy' and he's an _idiot_! ..._Was_ an idiot."

She's staring across her cell at the wall, and she feels Mr. Jacobs watching her closely. Her voice breaks and she slumps back on the bed, resting against the hard wall.

"I just, I snapped. I didn't want him to hurt her again. I didn't want him to hurt anyone again."

"So you feared for your safety?" He prompts, and she hears it in his voice. She hears the tone that got him into law school and into whatever law firm he works for now.

"Well, no...not really," Brittany says slowly, finally looking at the man standing in front of her cell.

"But, you were scared this boy was going to hurt your girlfriend again. You said he had a history of being homophobic?"

"Well, yeah I guess -"

"Did he ever get into physical altercations? With anyone, gay or straight?"

Brittany thinks for a moment. "Yeah..."

"Brittany," he's as excited as he can be for the late hour and the position they're in. "What we have here is an opportunity, not only to possibly clear your name and get you out of here, but to call attention to a greater issue at hand."

She's too tired for this, but she thinks she sees where he's going, and she's not sure if she likes it.

"Do you really think that will work?"

He throws up his hands. "You've already confessed to it, with evidence to boot, so that's not going away," his voice lets on he's annoyed at her for the confession, and she kind of finds it amusing. "Might as well push this defense and see if we can't at least get you a reduced sentence, if not off the hook completely."

"What's your first name?" She asks, confusing him for a second with the change of topic.

"Glenn," he answers simply.

Brittany sits up a little on her bed. "Can I call you Glenn?"

He smiles, amused. "Yes you may."

"Glenn, do you think I'm a bad person?"

He pauses, and runs a hand over his balding head. He considers her, his smile curious and kind at the same time.

"No, I don't."

Brittany smiles, and leans back against the wall again. Mr. Jacobs yawns. "Alright Brittany, I'm going home. I'll be over first thing tomorrow for your arraignment, and we'll talk more then, okay?"

She nods. "Goodnight Glenn."

"Goodnight Brittany."

Brittany listens with her eyes closed as his footsteps fade away. There's a light on in her cell, and the light in the hall is still on, but eventually she slips under the scratchy blanket on the bed and does her best to plump up the pillow. She's tired, but doesn't get to sleep easily.

Her mind races with thoughts of her parents and Santana. As she begins to drift, Brittany curls up into the fetal position, her worried thoughts sprinkled with splashes of red.


End file.
